Adore You
by Fairy.Kai
Summary: Roxanne Weasley. Died of unrequited love, excessive exposure to dangerous joke-shop products and an overwhelming case of all-round pathetic-ness. R.I.P. Pfft. I wish. It would make things sooo much easier... Roxanne.W/OC
1. Enter The Circus Troupe

**Adore You**

**1:Enter The Circus Troupe**

"Hey, Roxie!" I heard my older brother yell from upstairs. It was the 1st of September and my family and I were leaving for Kings Cross Station - just like every other year. I was going into Sixth Year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and my daft brother, Fred, was going into Seventh.

"Yeah?" I called back. I was standing by the door, leaning against my overly full trunk, waiting for my brother. Again. This was becoming a routine, much like brushing my teeth.

Fred thumped down the stairs, his trunk floating in the air behind him. He let it fall to the ground beside mine with a heavy _thunk_ and straightened.

"Did you know that if your hand's bigger than your face, you have Spattergroit?" he asked, grinning madly. His black curls were wet and sticking to his dark forehead from his shower.

I furrowed my brows and raised my hand, trying to figure out what he was saying. At the last minute, I put my hand back down, realising that he would push my hand in ans squash my nose as soon as it reached my face. "Ooh, that was almost clever, Freddie."

He laughed. "Damn. Oh well, I'll try it on Max when we get on the train."

Maximus was Fred's best friend. I didn't particularly like him but I pitied the bleeding nose he was likely to be sporting in an hour.

"Where's Mum and Dad?" I asked. It was usually Fred holding us up, not our parents.

"Mum's sorting through her jewellery box and Dad's in the Shed."

We shared a knowing look, smiling at each other. The Shed was where our father, George Weasley, notorius prankster and owner of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes (the best joke shop in the history of the world), developed his products. The little tin hut in the backyard of our house was prone to fires, explosions and the occasional portable swamp, but had somehow survived the years with only minimal rust. Amazing.

I knew that Dad was rummaging through there, collecting things to hide in our trunks to unleash upon the unsuspecting students of Hogwarts. Despite his forty-one years, I don't think my father ever grew up.

My mother, Angelina, was the grounding force in our family. Frankly, I don't quite know how she managed. Raising kids like Freddie and I was enough to cause a critical sense of paranoia, and then she had to deal with Dad on top of us. The woman was going for sainthood, I tell you.

"Mum!" shouted Fred. "Hurry up, we're going to miss the train!"

"I suppose you'll just have to take the car then, won't you?" said Dad, striding into the room. Grandad Weasley had retrieved the old flying Ford Anglia that Uncle Ron and Uncle Harry had crashed in their second year and returned it to pristine condition. But I did not relish the idea of flying it to Hogwarts. I had heard too many stories on the matter.

"I don't think so," I said, shaking my head. "We have to attend a meeting on the train this morning."

"What meeting?" asked Mum, stepping daintily down the stairs. "neither of you made Prefect or Head."

"Thank Merlin," I heard Dad mutter. I think I heard him say something about Uncle Percy but I couldn't be sure. Mum glared at him.

"A Weasley meeting," I replied. "We have one -"

"Every year," finished Fred. "to decide -"

"How best to cause Weasley Havoc -"

"And give McGonagall a headache."

Mum and Dad's heads bounced between the two of us like a tennis ball. Mum frowned and looked like she was about to tell us something along the general lines of 'you'll do no such thing!' But Dad beat her to it.

"Excellent. I don't know why we never had a Weasley meeting at school. Ange, why didn't we do that?" Mum shrugged, sighing. "Alright then, let's be off."

Mum grabbed my arm as I picked up my trunk. I was still too young to apparate by myself and was thus subjected to side-along. Not fun.

We stepped forward and I felt that horribly familiar feeling of being forced through a narrow tube and having my guts left at the top until we landed on Platform 9 ¾.

The Hogwarts Express was directly in front of us, in all its red and gold glory (I personally think that this train was in Gryffindor) and puffing white steam everywhere. I grinned upon seeing it.

It was two minutes to eleven and the train left on the dot. I turned around to hug Mum and Dad.

"Bye, Roxie," said Mum as she embraced me. "Have a good year. Not too many detentions, you hear? Write often."

"Every week," I said grinning. I was so proud. Professor McGonagall wrote to Dad over the summer to say that Fred and I had surpassed my father and his twin's detention record. Four hundred and ninety-two sessions of punishment. Dad was ecstatic. He threw a celebratory Weasley Bash just for Fred and me. The only people ahead of us now were James Potter (I) and Sirius Black at a combined six hundred and two detentions. But I've still got two years left. We'll get them eventually. Fred and I had vowed to get them.

I turned to Dad. "Bye, Dad," I said, hugging him tightly. "I'll see you at Christmas."

"Now listen," he said, checking that Mum was preoccupied with Fred. "I slipped a carton of Dungbombs in your trunk. There are some Weasley's Wet-starts, a couple of decoy detonators and handful of fake wands and one or two skiving snack-boxes. Write to me _privately_ when you run out, okay?"

I laughed, but quietened down when Mum looked over. "Sure, Dad. Those should last me until the end of the week."

He smiled widely and pushed me toward the train. I dragged my trunk over and handed it to the guy in the red uniform and stepped onto the scarlet steam engine. Fred was right behind me. The train began to move and, like practically every other student, we waved wildly at our parents until we turned the corner.

"Right then," said Fred. "To compartment Weasley!"

I followed him, weaving our way through the crowded train to the exact centre. Far enough from the prefect compartments, and far enough from the back that they aren't immediately suspicious. But strangely, the prefects always look at me, James (my cousin) and my brother at the earliest onset of trouble.

We reached it. I knew it was the Weasley's because someone had scribbled our surname on the door. I looked at Fred and nodded. This was serious business. I made three sharp knocks on the door and Fred leaned forward to do the two longer, more resonating raps and then I raised my hand to finish it with five successive-really-fast taps when the door slid open to reveal my cousin Albus.

"But I didn't finish the Weasley Secret Knock!" I exclaimed in outrage as Fred and I stepped inside the painfully crowded compartment.

Albus shrugged. "It doesn't matter anyway. We knew it was you."

"Is nothing sacred anymore?" Fred moaned in mock agony.

I glanced around, doing a quick internal head count. _James. Hugo. Lucy. Molly. Dominique. Fred. Myself. Louis. Lily. Rose. Scorpius. Albus_. Wait! Scorpius?

I pointed my finger at the Slytherin albino. "Out."

"But -"

James stood up. "Sorry, pal. Weasley Meeting of Mass Destruction in progress here."

Rose (another cousin) rolled her eyes. "You can stay, Scorp," she told her boyfriend. "They're just kidding."

"No, we are not," said Fred, stepping forward.

Louis (yet another Weasley) stood and made his way over the skinny Malfoy kid. Fred went to his other side. Together they hoisted the squirming thirteen year old out and closed the compartment door in his complaining face.

"That was not necessary!" growled Rose. I was surprised. Usually, she was wrapped in a book, not paying attention to our antics.

"News flash," said James obnoxiously. "It was."

"Now, on with the meeting," declared Fred, raising his voice.

"Weasleys have always been top-notch pranksters," began Louis. "It is our duty - _duty, _people - to provide our fellow students with the best entertainment available to man."

"We are not a circus troupe," muttered Rose viciously.

"Rosie, darling," I answered condescendingly. "I hate to break it to you, but we pretty much are."

"Anyway," continued James. "We must strive for perfection. We are this close" - he gestured with a tiny space between his index finger and thumb - "to making McGonagall crack. Death shall take us before we fail in this mission!" he finished dramatically.

Little Lily, looking petrified (it was her first train ride to Hogwarts) spoke up, her green eyes wide with fear. "But why do we want Professor McGonagall to crack?"

James stared at her. "Sister, did you not hear me? It is our _mission_. And has been since Louis, Rox and me started here. A tradition, I say!"

Dominique piped up. "Oh cut it out, James. We all know McGonagall's never going to crack. Not now, not ever."

I turned my Fearsome Gaze on the blonde part-Veela by the window. "Did you know, that along with the Mission, we declared that Pessimists should be dunked in the Black Lake at midnight in the middle of winter? You better sleep with your eyes open, Dom. We do share a dormitory and most classes, after all." I threatened.

Louis snuck me a High-Sly. It's like a High-five, except much sneakier.

"I conclude," said James importantly. "That this meeting is over. Go now, fellow Weasley's and Potters, and create Havoc."

Rose rolled her eyes and stood to let in poor Scorpius who had been waiting at the door. I clapped him on the shoulder as I left.

"Sorry, Scorpy, ol' chap," I apologised. "Family business. Marry Rosie and we might just let you in one day. Until then, ta ta!"

James, Louis and I made our way through the train, saying various greetings to students along the way, to the compartment where our friends were waiting. I swear it couldn't be _further_ back.

"Roxie!" squealed Cassi when we finally reached it. "Merlin, I haven't seen you in years!"

Cassiopeia D'Archer was well known for her excitable nature. If I were to say "oh, look, there's a tree..." she'd probably pee herself in her energetic haste to see it. But she was one of my closest friends. I glanced around the full compartment at my friends. Naith was lounging on the seat beside the window. My heart lurched. Oh yeah, I was in love with him. Completely. I'd take up stalking Naithaniel Richards if I wasn't so busy getting detentions and causing general chaos.

Cassi finally, after hugging each of us and enquiring after our holidays, allowed us to sit down. I was snuggled not-so-comfortably between the window and James. And directly across from Naith. Like, our knees were touching.

"Hey," I said to him.

"Hey, yourself," answered Naith. His freakin' sexy voice almost made me sigh. Almost. I had better control than that.

The Cassi began to bubble on about her holiday. James, Naith, Louis and I listened patiently, nodding and smiling where required.

"So we were at this castle and - oh _shit_!" she suddenly broke off.

"Huh?" I asked in confusion as Cassi leapt to her feet.

Her pale face was whiter than normal. "I forgot completely! I have to go to the Prefect meeting!" And she bolted from the compartment.

"Prefect?!" the rest of us chorused in horror.

We were the most mischievous kids in school and now, our friend is now a Prefect. I shook my fist at the sky. I'd obviously done something (or several somethings, which was more likely) to someone Upstairs.

"Noooooo," sighed James. "My life is over!"

"How could Cassi do this to us?" groaned Naith.

So_ hot_...

"What did I do to deserve this?" whined Louis. "I had to deal with Victoire all my life and when I'm finally free of her, I get stuck with a Prefect."

The three boys stared at me. I started, realising I was supposed to whinge as well.

"Oh, Cassi what have you done?" I moaned, with a facial expression that denoted pure pain. I cracked an eye open. The boys seemed satisfied.

James perked up. "Oh well. We just won't tell her what we're up to. She never used to come on Raids or anything anyway."

We all nodded our agreement. I turned to James only to see him busily mussing his already perfectly messy black hair. What a surprise.

"Are you holding Quidditch trials this week?"

James was the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Which I was on. Mum and Dad (especially Dad) were so proud when I made the team. I was only in Second year. Fred was already on it. We were both Beaters.

Naith rolled his beautiful bright blue eyes at the turn in conversation. He was not a Quidditch fanatic. Neither was Louis. They were both much too busy with other things, presumably girls. Yes, my heart pangs. Naith had a new girlfriend for everyday of the week. What? I don't blame him or anything. It's not _his_ fault he's so damn sexy. And Louis was (and looked) part-Veela. Enough said.

"Yeah. I was thinking Tuesday," he said thoughtfully, his green eyes lighting up. "Is that good for you?"

"Yep. Do you know if anyone's said they're trying out?"

He grinned wickedly. "Lily wants to. She's good too."

I raised my eyebrows. "Really? You might have to convince McGonagall, though. Are first years still allowed to try out?"

James waved his hand in a dismissal. "Yeah, 'course they are. They just don't usually make the team. I'll give her a fair go, sure. I was thinking we make it a team decision on who gets picked. We need two Chasers."

I nodded in agreement.

Cassi returned an hour later from her meeting. She showed us her gold badge and we tried not to think about all the rules it represented. We chattered happily until the train pulled to a stop.

"Quick," said Cassi, "We have to get our robes on." She shoved the boys out the door and turned to me. She pulled out her wand and summoned our robes. I grabbed the skirt, top, long socks, and shoes as they flew at me and put them on. We stepped out of the compartment to where the three guys were waiting impatiently.

"Finally!" exclaimed James, pushing past us. "_If_ you are quite finished primping..."

"Don't go without us, Roxie," warned Louis as he stepped into the compartment where James had pulled his shirt off, revealing a very Quidditch trained abdomen. I had half a mind to tell Cassi to pick her jaw up off the floor. "We still have to do the Entrance."

The Entrance was yet another tradition. James, Fred, Naith, Louis and myself always, _always_, entered the Great Hall at the beginning of the year last. There was something about that collective groan of pain from the teachers that gave us such pleasure.

I was about to nod, but Naith pushed past me and I lost all train of thought. Damn, that boy was _fit_. What did he do? Five hundred push ups every day? I was so okay with that.

Yeah. I've been totally in love with him since half way through last year. And there is nothing more frightening than a fourteen year old in love. But I was sixteen now, so it wasn't scary. It was worse. It was terrifying.

Not that I planned to tell him. I don't think Naith would laugh. I think he'd be shocked, then embarrassed and then everything in our little group will be eternally awkward. I refuse to be responsible for that.

The boys were finally finished changing (seriously! They took longer than us!) and we walked up to the carriages. We always managed to squeeze into one together, though each year the space in that black box drawn by an invisible horse got smaller and smaller. Cassi (dumb blonde) thought that the school was running out of funds and had to get smaller carriages, but I sensibly pointed out that it was because the three sixteen year old boys were _growing_.

Cassi went straight through the big doors into the Great Hall, while the four of us waited until the last student had filed through and found a seat. Professor Flitwick was a few meters away, herding first years. I caught Lily and Hugo's eyes and waved. James and Louis, noticing where my attention was, waved as well.

"Alright, family business aside," said Naith. "Are we ready for the Entrance?"

We all nodded and stepped inside the doors. Uh huh, there goes that moan of 'they came back?' from the teachers. I lead the three boys up the Gryffindor table to where Cassi had found us seats. Every eye in the Great Hall was on us. I pretended not to notice Naith and Louis winking at every D-cup they passed. We sat down and waited for McGonagall to address us. She invited Flitwick to bring in the first years.

I gave Lily and Hugo a thumbs-up as they walked in. They didn't look as nervous as the others, but the terror was still quite plain on their faces.

Professor Flitwick placed the ratty old hat on the stool and stood back. McGonagall gave the first years their instructions - the usual, sit on stool, place hat on head, sit at table.

I could feel James' knee bouncing beside me and I raised an eyebrow at him. I know his sister was being sorted and everything, but it was nothing for him to be nervous about.

"I'm starving," he whispered in response. I rolled my eyes. Of course he was.

"Lawler, Serenity," called McGonagall and a tiny blonde pixie-looking thing got up and sat on the stool. Wow, we were already at 'L'. Minerva's rushing along a bit, isn't she?

"Ravenclaw!" shouted the old hat. Serenity looked very pleased and darted off to sit with the blue-clad students on the bench beside ours.

McGonagall continued with this routine and I zoned out. And no, for your information, I was _not_ thinking about Naithaniel Richards. Much.

"Potter, Lily," said McGonagall primly. There were cheers from all the Weasleys and Potters. Lily smiled faintly and pushed an escaped lock of black hair behind her ear.

Lily sat on the stool, the widest grin on her little face. She looked scarily like James, with the green eyes and black hair. She managed to make hers look wind-blown and messy as well. Or maybe it was just because there was a bit of a wind when they came up in the boats.

The hat seemed to think for all of two seconds before bellowing, "Gryffindor!"

I leapt to my feet, along with the other ten or so members of my family, cheering wildly as Lily came down and squashed herself between James and me. I hugged her while James ruffled her messy, inky hair affectionately. Louis, across from us, leaned forward and slapped her a High-five. Down the table, Albus waved at her. On the other side, where all the Seventh years sat, Freddie was grinning and making funny faces at her.

Aside from Louis and James, Lily was my favourite cousin. I suppose it wasn't surprising, the cheeky little girl was the female replica of her oldest brother and I liked him well enough.

"Hugo should be up soon," she said nervously, looking up at the remaining three unsorted first years. Hugo, Rose's younger brother and yet another of my numerous cousins, was smiling at us.

"Weasley, Hugo."

Another bout of yelling and cheering rose in the Great Hall. McGonagall glared at our end of the table in particular. Hugo placed the Sorting Hat atop his shock of red curls only to have it yell out, "Hufflepuff!"

I could feel the disappointment radiate off Lily. She and Hugo were very close, like Albus and Rose, and Louis, James and I. I felt sorry for her, I remember my first day and begging that damn hat to put me wherever James or Louis went.

"Relax, Lils," I whispered soothingly to her. "You'll make heaps of friends."

"Yeah," said James. "And if you can't, you can always hang with us. You'll still see Hugo around heaps anyway."

"I'm not good at making friends..."

"Don't worry," I calmed her, my arm around her tiny shoulders. I was never that small when I was eleven, I swear. What is Aunt Ginny feeding this child? "You've got Weasley genes."

"Weasley genes? Does Hugo have them too?" she looked up at me, those enormous green eyes huge and hopeful.

"Sure he does," said Louis, leaning in so he could hear us better. His blonde hair looked silver in the flickering candle light. "And just think of all the Hufflepuff boys he'll introduce you to when you're older!"

Naith snorted. "He's kidding, Lily. Those 'Puffs ain't got nothin' on us."

Lily looked confused. James laughed. "What he means is that those Hufflepuffs don't look as good as I do."

Lily giggled, still not really getting the not-so-funny joke.

McGonagall gave the usual welcome speech, finishing off with all the things that were prohibited. I exchanged a grin with my brother, both of us knowing that my trunk was chocker-block full of every single thing on that list and then some.

The food appeared on the table and Lily gasped in shock at the feast laid out before us. I laughed at her expression of amazement. She looked like a kid on Christmas morning.

I looked over my shoulder toward the Hufflepuff bench. Hugo was talking tentatively with the straw-haired boy next to him and he smiled when he caught my eye. I was glad he wasn't all by himself. I recognised the blonde boy as Aunt Luna's son, Lorcan Scamander. Luna isn't really my aunt, but I got in the habit of calling her that, just like every other Weasley/Potter child.

We finished the feast, feeling sick to the pits of our stomachs, and left the Great Hall. Lily walked beside me, sticking close to my hip so as not to get separated in the throng of boisterous Gryffindors. She grabbed my hand in surprise when she saw the moving staircases, even though she'd heard about them at home. I wasn't really paying attention, I was laughing silently at my friends/cousins' conversation on my other side.

"No, seriously," said James. "Gryffindor girls have more fun."

Louis shook his head. "Nope, it's always the Snakes that are caught doing the deed. And in the strangest of places, too."

"Yeah, but the Gryff girls don't get caught," argued James. "That's not to say they're not doing the same."

"You're both wrong," laughed Naith as we stepped through the portrait hole and into the commonroom. I pointed out to Lily where the girls' dormitories were and promised I'd show her the hidden passage into the boys' ones when she was a little older. "It's those Ravenclaw chicks you gotta watch out for. They hide behind their books and essays all day, ready to emerge at night. I'm telling you, Ravenclaw girls have more fun."

At this I could not keep the burst of laughter from coming forth, like water from a weakened dam. "Seeing as you're all males, I'm suggesting you drop the topic before your sexuality comes into question."

"What's -?"

"Next year, Lil," I interrupted the eleven year old.

I showed Lily to her room and then followed the boys further up the stairs the Sixth Years dorms.

"Well, good night!" I cheerfully bid them farewell and stepped into the girls' room, closing the door as I heard James declare he was never going to eat again. Ha. Unlikely. He says that every year and still eats himself sick.

Cassi was already in her pyjamas, sitting cross legged on the bed by the window. She had a magazine (presumably _Witch Weekly_) propped open on her knees.

"Hey, Roxie!" exclaimed Taylor Smith from her position at her cupboard.

"Roxanne how was your summer?" asked Paulina Parkes. She was leaning over Cassi's shoulder, reading one of the articles.

"'Ello 'oxie!" called Dominique (a cousin) from where she was cleaning her teeth in the bathroom.

"Hey, guys!" And there you have it. Paulina, Cassiopeia, Dominique, Taylor and Roxanne - Girls Sixth. And what an energetic bunch we were.

Those of us who hadn't already done so changed into our pyjamas and climbed into our beds, completely and sickeningly full from the beginning of year feast.

We didn't talk much, all tired and full to the brim with food, and the others fell straight into a deep sleep. I stayed awake though. For some reason, I couldn't seem to get my eyes to remain closed.

This year was going to be _the_ year. We would make McGonagall crack and Naith was going to fall madly in love with me.

Pfft. As if.

Naithaniel was not into girls like me. Sure, I had curves, nice hair, good boobs, straight teeth and a decent enough face. But somehow, I didn't think that Naith wanted a relationship. He and Louis were both looking for easy fixes and that was not something I was okay with. Sigh. It was a hopeless cause.

Oh well, I was perfectly content to admire his perfectly formed behind and gorgeous blue eyes and silky brown hair and that slow, sexy smile from afar. Yes, I know, I'm _so_ pathetic...

Note to self:

My Epitaph -

_Roxanne Weasley. Died of unrequited love, excessive exposure to dangerous joke-shop products and an overwhelming case of all-round pathetic-ness. R.I.P._

**AN: Yay! A new story! Please review everyone - it inspires me to write lots of Roxie/Naith goodness!**

**Oh, and the inspirational music behind this story is 'Adore You' (I know, I'm sooo original) by Lil' Rain.**

xx


	2. Betrayal Walks Hand in Hand With Revenge

**Adore You**

**2. Betrayal Walks Hand-in-Hand With Revenge**

"Roxie!" he yelled again. Dominique shot a glare at me. I suppose it was five-fifteen - a few hours too early on a Saturday morning to have my brother knocking on our dorm room door, begging for my help. The girls were trying to tune him out, but it was hard when he was consistently battering on the wood like a woodpecker-bird on steroids. "Roxanne Weasley, open up this door right now!"

"Fuck off, Fred!" I called, finally forgoing my pretence at sleep.

"Roxie, you have to help me! Augustina Longbottom's gonna eat me!"

Huh? Why would Augustina eat Fred? Augustina loves Fred. In a creepy way. My curiosity aroused, I pulled myself out of bed and made my way over to the door. It was charmed so that the boys couldn't open it and get in unless we let them. Extremely fun. Their door held the same curse, but fortunately, Louis and I found a secret passage into the boy's dorm. My Naithaniel Richards related stalking issues celebrated this discovery for many days within the confines of my head.

"Why is Augustina going to eat you, Fred Arthur Weasley?" I asked patiently. He was standing in the door way, chewing his fingernails and looking like one of Hagrid's pets had chased him half way to Peru.

"Because I kissed Beryllia!"

I stared at him before I started to laugh. Hysterically. Beryllia was Professor Longbottom's daughter, and Augustina's twin sister. Beryllia was probably the most intelligent and domineering girl in Hogwarts - outside of Rose Weasley. She's also extremely pretty. If Fred had been joking around, Beryllia Longbottom _would_ find a way to castrate him and feed his sexual organs to a pack of rabid werewolves. And that's if he's _lucky_.

"I don't think that you should be worried about Augustina, Freddie..."

I sighed and stepped out onto the landing, closing the door behind me so as to not further disturb the girls.

"What happened, Fred?" I asked, pressing my hand to my head, preparing for what was going to be a really bad headache.

"Well, the Sevenths had a party down in the Ravenclaw dorm, you see," he babbled. "And, erm, there may or may not have been firewhiskey involved and I may or may not have participated in some pretty heavy drinking games and I may or may not have attacked Beryllia when she stepped into the commonroom."

"Well if you attacked her..."

Fred shook his head, his dark hair bobbing as he did so. "No, it was totally mutual. She kissed me back."

I grinned at him. Oh, this was just too much fun. Wait til I told James, Louis and Naith.

"Well, if she kissed you back, she's hardly going to go tell her sister about it, is she?"

Fred mumbled something. I bent forward. "Sorry, I didn't catch that?"

"Augustina was there," he whispered. "And she is going to feed my balls to a blast ended skrewt and then my penis to a doxy nest when she finds out!"

I grinned. "Tragic. Explain why your tormented little sister should give a damn about your bullocks or your penis?"

_Eww... I can't believe we're discussing this._

"Because you love me," he moaned.

_Not that much_.

"Oh, shut it, Freddie!" my brother glanced around to see his sleep-deprived best friend stumble out of the Boy's Seventh. Maximus Lancaster was a pretty huge guy. Intimidating at best. Freakin' terrifying at worst. His light, honey hair was cut so short it was more like a coating of stubble over his skull. It made his face look scarier and more square-like. He reminded me of a mountain troll, except definitely more intelligent and better looking.

"Hey, Maxxie!" I waved.

"Fuck off, Weasley," he groaned, rubbing his head. He hated it when I called him Maxxie. But the nickname suited him to the core. He was like an enormous, overgrown teddy bear with possible Tourette's Syndrome.

"Big one last night, huh?" I asked, my grin growing wider. Ahh the beauties of having an older brother plus his friends to tease.

"Do I have to repeat myself Roxanne? Fuck off."

I giggled. "Is Mister Maxxie not a morning person or does he just have a suspicious headache?"

"Both. Now, can we please just sort Freddie out so I can go back to violently coughing up my guts in peace? You guys are fucking louder than rutting dragons."

Oh yeah, Maxxie has a tendency to slip the 'F' word into almost every sentence. He's gifted, that boy.

Fred bent down on one knee and grabbed my hand. I was on the verge of laughing, Max looked closer to passing out. My gaze was diverted, however, when another door opened. I smiled at the familiar face. Probably wider than strictly necessary because of who it was.

"Jay-zus," declared Naith, yawning and rubbing his eyes. "It's bloody five-thirty on a Saturday, you stupid Weasleys! Shut the hell up!"

Maxxie groaned. "Say it again. I _dare_ you."

Naith glanced at me and Fred. "Erm, you guys do realise that legally, you can't get married, right? You're her brother, Freddo."

I quickly rid myself of Fred's hands like the plague and kicked him sharply in the shin so that he stood up. Oh great. Now the love of my life thinks I'm _inbred_. Fan-fucking-tastic.

"We're not getting married, chill out," I said quickly, a flush rising to my cheeks. I am so glad I had inherited my mother's dark mocha skin - you could rarely tell when I was blushing. Fred was less brown than me. Tan, so that he looked like he was outdoors during summer often, but pale enough that you could easily see the spattering of freckles across his face.

"Thank Merlin for small favours," said Naith, before turning and walking back into Boy's Sixth.

Gut plummeting...

Butterflies...

Heart jumping out of chest....

Surely he'd just...

"Did he just...?" asked Fred.

Maxxie groaned. "It was fucking Naithaniel Richards. He says that to anyone with a uterus and pair of tits to their name. Now, Roxie, can you please help Fred so I can go back to being miserably hung over?"

I sighed, a blissful smile etched on my face, not paying attention to anything but Naith's perfectly straight white teeth. And those lips...

"Roxie?"

"Yep!"

"Task at hand."

"Right. So, er, do you fancy Beryllia?" I asked Fred, who was now leaning on the opposite wall beside his best friend. When did he move? I hadn't noticed him moving. Although, I hadn't noticed much after Naith...

Fred shrugged. "Sure. Good tits. She's pretty fit..." I rolled my eyes at my brother's shallowness. "'Cept that Augustina has been in love with me since we were fourteen."

"They're twins, though, right?" I asked in confusion. God, my brother was thick. "You fancy Beryllia for her looks. _Augustina looks the same_."

Both Maxxie and Fred shook their heads.

"Fuckin' cross eyed," stated Maxxie in a bored tone.

"Weird, too," added Fred. "If I didn't know better, I'd totally say she's a Lovegood-Scamander spawn."

"Christ! Say that a little louder, why don't you, boys? Never mind that their dorms are _right there_!"

"Whoops," they said in unison, without inflection, emphasis or any hint that they cared who heard them. And it was true, Augustina Longbottom and Olivia Scamander's dorm was right across from Fred's.

"Screw this; you're both set to be in the Mental Ward at St Mungo's. I'm going back to bed."

And I shut the door on them. But I did hear Maxxie say as they turned to go back into their room, "Well, your sister's a lot a fucking help, isn't she?"

"What the hell was that about?" muttered Dom as I climbed back into bed.

"Fred has ladies problems," I replied.

She yawned and rolled over. "Tell Fred to pick the more absorbent thingies next time, then."

Oh Merlin, I tell you, my cousin Dominique is a cack up. "Fred doesn't have his period, Dom, he's just confused about which girl he likes," I explained through my stifled laughter.

"Whatever," said Dom before she started snoring again.

~xox~

"What's got you so grumpy, darling cousin?" asked James at breakfast.

I was this close to reaching over the table and whacking him upside the head.

"Fred made me get up early," I said with a groan.

"Why?"

"Because Freddie got his periods," interrupted Dom, sitting down beside me. Bitch. She just _completely_ ruined any chance of Naith choosing to set next to his inbred stalker future-wife. Or something.

The half-masticated piece of sausage fell out of James' mouth. His green eyes seemed to stop blinking. It was so comical, it was one of those moments that I wished I had a Polaroid camera. I was so asking Granddad Weasley for one for my birthday next month.

Suddenly, Louis sat down across from us, out of breath and grinning like a kid on Christmas. Thankfully, it distracted us from watching James shove his half eaten sausage _back_ into his mouth, the disgusting pig.

"Did you do it?" I asked.

He nodded proudly, before turning to his twin sister. "Piss off, Dom."

She sighed. "One of those things, huh?" He nodded. "Right? Will I be safe sitting with Cassi and Paulina?"

He shrugged. "Hopefully. It was a pretty heavy dose."

She rolled her eyes and walked away.

I turned to my cousin. "Did you use the spell I told you? Exactly as I said?"

Louis grinned. "Down the last letter. And the wand movement, too."

I laughed. I should have cackled, but as I was still figuring out how to ask my vocal cords to do that... "McGonagall will be so proud of the spell I made; she couldn't possibly give me a detention."

James raised an eyebrow. "I thought you and Fred were _trying_ to get detentions this year?"

"Of course," I responded, pleased that he had finally swallowed his impossibly large mouthful of food. "Don't forget the other twenty teachers who will be out for our blood."

Louis grinned. "Carnage at the breakfast table. Me like."

I reached over to high-five him and we noticed all the teachers at the high table stiffen, seeing our action. We laughed as they looked around, expecting an attack. Gosh, was a high five now the secret code that the Weasleys-Potter-Richards quartet had pulled a prank? Hah, it must be. I feel sorry for the Slytherins today.

"Any minute now," muttered James. "Those green tarts on brooms will never know what hit 'em."

Okay, so our prank was directed primarily at the Slytherin Quidditch team. They have this ritual, you see. Every morning, the Captain, Matthew Goyle, made his players eat an apple. All at the same time. Something about blood sugar or whatever. There were usually a few Slytherin chants involved and a lot of overall commendable team spirit, but it was just begging for a Weasley attack. Really. It's like gravity, trouble calls to us.

There was a little commotion from the opposite end of the hall. I scrambled up to sit on the table for a better view, followed closely by Louis and James. And Naith. When had he arrived?

"Here we go," whispered Louis.

And the first Slytherin bit into an apple.

"EWWWWWWWWW!" he cried, leaping from the table, tossing the apple in disgust. His teammates had followed his lead and apples dropping gross-looking green goo everywhere were flying all over the place.

My mischief makers and I were laughing so hard our mouths were fit to fall off.

"Ah, Roxie," laughed Naith. "I love how good you are at Transfiguration."

_And I love you..._

Okay, so I'm evil. I transfigured the stock of dungbombs in my trunk into lovely Granny Smith apples and had Louis put them in the fruit bowl. It's a lovely spell I made - looks like an apple, feels like an apple, practically _is_ an apple, until you break the skin. Then, it is a superbly ripened dungbomb.

"Okay, time to go," said James, "McGonagall coming this way."

"Weasleys!" the Scottish woman yelled. I swear she is a delegate of Satan. Why must she always call 'Weasley' first? Was it habit from my dad and his brother? Because Uncle Harry was quite mischievous at school, I hear. "And Potter and Richards! You stop this instant!" There we go, addressing _all_ the culprits. She hadn't just singled Louis and me out.

Our fast getaway came to a halt. Everyone in the Great Hall was looking at us. Definitely not unusual - it happened every other day. The Slytherins were swearing and spitting out gluggy green slime. James and Naith looked at Louis and I. We were easily the smoother talkers in situations such as this.

"Yes, professor?" asked Louis with a perfectly innocent face.

"Where do you think you are going?" she demanded in that thick Scottish brogue. Satan's mistress, I'm telling you.

"To study, professor?" piped up James. His voice couldn't quite mask a smile. Naith elbowed him in the ribs and I glared at him. _Shut up, James_.

"I believe you, Mr Potter."

"You do?" he asked, aghast.

"Of course not. What do you take me for, a fool?" Damn, McGonagall was cutting this morning. I must remind her to take her vitamins.

I saw James' excited expression droop and could have laughed.

Louis nudged me, evidently hinting for me to get on with the arse kissing.

"Would anyone care to explain to me what that stunt at the Slytherin's table was?"

I stepped forward. "They're probably trying to get attention before the tryouts. Gryffindor is the only team holding them this year, as you well know, Professor, being our lovely Head of House, and quite a wonderful, organised one at that."

"Save it, Miss Weasley," she cut in. "I know perfectly well that it was your spell that disguised the dungbombs."

"Minerva, darling," I said in my best kiss-arse voice. Ugh. I sounded like Aunt Fleur. Or worse, Aunt _Audrey_. "As a woman extremely gifted in the art of Transfiguration, surely you can see the... usefulness of this spell I invented. Why, my Aunt Hermione thinks that it is quite brilliant. A _temporary_ shifting spell. Wonderfully useful, I assure you."

"Don't you 'Minerva, darling' me, Miss Weasley," exclaimed Professor McGonagall. But I could see the light of appreciation in her eyes. I sighed. I may have gotten us out of losing points, but there was no way to escape -

"Detention."

Oh well. I have a goal regarding those anyway. One session of punishment would no doubt set me further ahead in that ambition.

I turned to face the guys, an apologetic smile on my face. Really, detentions didn't faze us; we worried more about losing House points. We were nothing if not team players.

"Nice piece of work there, Rox," said Naith.

_I know who else is a nice piece of work..._

I shrugged, grinning. "What can I say? I have unexplored talents."

_Please explore them..._

He laughed and led us from the Great Hall. We were on the receiving end of cheers and applause, and a display of language from our green-clad classmates that may even make Maxxie blush. I think Louis even got a date.

I performed a spectacular boy before stepping through the enormous doors, to yet more applause.

I never said we were subtle.

~xox~

I was sitting in the commonroom that evening, polishing my broom, when she sat down next to me on the comfy couch before the fire.

"Don't sit there," I told her.

But she sat anyway and let out a squeal when the electric bolt hit her in the arse. I sniggered and told her that I had warned her.

Augustina Longbottom glared at me. It only made me laugh harder. Maxxie was right: she is a little cross-eyed.

"Roxanne, your brother kissed my sister," she stated, anger coating each syllable like butter. Whoa, too many 's's in that sentence, Augie.

I nodded and leaned forward to reach the spot just before the tail of my broom.

"I'm not happy."

I glanced up at her, keeping my smile under control. She didn't look happy at all. She looked like she was about to summon the hounds of Hell to chase Fred down and steal his underpants. "That's lovely, Augustina," I said smoothly. "Now, write a poem and get over it."

She huffed and left me to my now perfectly polished broom.

Well that was freakin' weird.

"Hey, Roxie!" exclaimed Taylor, sitting down beside me. This time, there was no electric jolt. I was almost compelled to tell her that Augustina Longbottom had previously been sitting there, but knew that my brunette friend might jump up and walk away without telling me her news. "There's a Hogsmeade trip tomorrow! It's really last minute and McGonagall's rushing around telling everyone. I think she's stressed."

McGonagall's stressed. Oh my God - where the hell is James?!

"Oh, cool," I said, settling my beautiful, now-shiny broom on the floor at my feet. I was a little distracted, thinking of the Weasley discussion on the train. _Make McGonagall crack._

"Erm," said Taylor, twirling her chestnut hair nervously. "I just wanted to, um, let you know before you went upstairs, that, er..."

I looked at her, her pretty hazel eyes met mine and they were filled with anxiety and worry. "What's wrong, Tay?"

"Naith asked Cassi to Hogsmeade," she said quickly.

My stomach seemed quiver for a moment before falling to the floor to die in agony, along with my broken heart.

"Oh."

Taylor shifted closer. "I just thought... I know, you guys are... pretty tight," she rambled. "And that you might be a little... upset about, y'know, Cassi and all."

She wasn't making sense, but she didn't need to because I wasn't paying enough attention to call her on it.

Cassiopeia D'Archer was my friend. The only person (outside of Louis Weasley) I had told about my strange and definitely unhealthy obsession with Naith Richards. She'd been encouraging me to ask him out already since last year. Wow. This was really unexpected. I wonder why I wasn't feeling furious to the tips of my fingers.

And how the hell did Taylor Smith know? Taylor and I had never been more than... dorm-mates. We hung out with different people, she hates Quidditch, and she's very much a girly-girl. All lip-gloss and handbags.

"Thanks, Taylor," I heard myself say. "But, it really doesn't bother me."

It does. It bothers me to hell and back, fifty times over.

Oh yeah, here comes the fury.

How could Cassi do that to me?! The bitch _knows_ I'm in love with him.

"No worries, Rox," she responded, eyeing my clenched fists warily. "I just figured that you didn't know. If you're upset, I wouldn't suggest coming up to the room for a while."

"Why not?" I asked in confusion. I wanted to throttle Cassi D'Archer. She was in the dorm. Therefore, to make manual strangulation possible, I needed to be in the dorm.

"Um, Cass is picking out her outfit and, er, gushing about how sweet her boyfriend is. I think you'll be pretty uncomfortable."

Internal groan.

I wonder if I could open the window in the commonroom far enough that I could jump out and kill myself.

No. I was kidding. I think.

"How did you know about Naith and... me?" I asked cautiously. Not that there is a Naith and me or anything. There was a me and then there was a Naith. That's it. Two separate things. _Please don't say Cassi told you... Please don't say Cassi told you..._ I don't think I could deal with yet another betrayal from my closest girlfriend. We were only two weeks into the school year, for bloody sakes.

Taylor grinned. "Yeah, 'bout that. I guessed. I'm pretty good at reading people. Don't worry, Cass didn't tell anyone."

Relief.

Hurt.

Fury.

I smiled warmly at her. I now appoint Miss Taylor Smith to be my trusted adviser in all things boy. Or Naith, because honestly, 'boy' doesn't really cover him. More like sex god or something.

Oh, Cassiopeia, darling. This means _war_.

"Hey, Taylor," I called as she stood up.

"Yeah?" she asked, straightening her blouse.

"Want to hang out with Louis and me in Hogsmeade tomorrow? I do believe that I have some business to take care of."

Taylor grinned like a Cheshire cat. I wondered why she had told me about Cassi and Naith. Pity? Or some other reason? I was inclined to believe the former. I didn't care what reason she had for selling Cassi out. I was glad she had warned me. "I might just like that, Roxanne. Meet at nine?"

I stood up. I was head taller than my new partner in crime. "Sounds good. Hope you're feeling up for some Weasley fun?"

Her grin widened. "You have no idea." She turned and walked back upstairs.

What the hell just happened?

Beside the bitter hurt and anger coursing through my body, I could feel excitement and anticipation for tomorrow. Cassi was going to regret stabbing me in the back. She wasn't going to know what hit her.

I didn't blame Naithaniel in the slightest. He doesn't know that I'd swim through burning lava for him. Cassi does. Which is what makes her stinging betrayal all that harder to bear.

Damn, that blonde bitch was gonna get her just desserts. And I was going to be there to shove 'em down her stupid throat.

Yeah, I know I mentally ramble a lot. It helps me think. Please, just consider all the students I would be taking my anger out on otherwise. I picked up my broom and Quidditch care set and ran up to Louis' dorm. He and I had some planning to do.

**AN: I own nothing. Please review! - even if it's only to tell me you're glad Fred doesn't get periods. haha. Too funny.**

**xx**


	3. A Side Of Jealousy With That?

_**Adore You**_

**3. A Side Of Jealousy With That?**

"Taylor, huh?" said Louis, leaning against the door. "She's pretty fit."

I rolled my eyes. It was the morning of the Hogsmeade weekend and the only time I had to tell Louis. He was, shall we say, indisposed in the Hufflepuff dorms last night. So, basically, I had no plan. I was flying on impulse.

"Whether she's fit or not does not come into the fact that Cassi is –"

"Going to Hogsmeade with your would-be lover?"

"- is a backstabbing traitor," I finished, glaring at him.

Louis shrugged as I pulled my cloak on, eyeing the people leaving the commonroom. Everybody was already on their way, but we were still waiting for Taylor.

"You know, Cassi is pretty-"

I growled," If you say 'fit' one more time, Louis Weasley..."

He grinned. "- Hot."

I cussed under my breath and looked up at the footsteps that met my ears. Taylor. She smiled when she saw me, and (maybe it was just my imagination) smiled wider at my cousin.

_I should have bought James..._

But Louis was the only one who understood my undying love for Adonis... er, sorry, I meant Naith. But, honestly, they're one and the same.

"Hey, Roxie," she said warmly, smoothing the fabric of her black miniskirt. Seriously, my new slutty friend, it is _November_! Definitely not the time for miniskirts. Maybe she thinks my sought after blonde veela cousin might notice this and offer to warm her legs up.... eww, disturbing thought. "You guys ready?"

I told her we were and we headed off. It was only when we were walking out of the gates of the school that my doom came to bite me in the arse.

"Rox! Lou!" I heard someone call. It sounded awfully like...

"Oh, hey Naith," said Louis, as our friend jogged up behind us, towing his new _squeeze _by the arm.

"Hi, Naith," I responded, my eyes on the ground. Taylor nudged me. I glanced at her. Her gestures were either telling me to be a little flirtier or attempt human flight without a broomstick. I'm going with option... A.

"Did you –"

"Roxie!" And that feminine squeal of delight interrupted option A. Cassi really knows how to screw up my mind. It's been what, twenty hours and I'm already considering hospitalisation or suicide. "How are you?"

"About the same as I was when you asked me an hour ago, Cassiopeia, thank you for asking."

The dumb blonde (not that I believe in stereotypes or anything; she's actually just dumb... and a blonde. Pure coincidence) didn't pick up on the dry tone in my voice. Louis and Taylor did and were laughing silently. I think Naith noticed my angry stance because he was looking at me like I was sick or something.

_Love sick..._

"Oh, that's great, Roxie," she responded enthusiastically. Why did I trust this annoyingly chipper girl? "I must have forgotten."

"Yes, important things like friendship seem to slip past you awful fast, huh?"

Luckily, or not so luckily, however I want to put it, Louis said at the exact same time, "Alright, guys, we'll meet up with you later," and started dragging me away.

Taylor was laughing quietly at my stormy expression as Louis pretty much hauled me down to Hogsmeade.

"That little slurry!" I spluttered when he finally released me, trusting in my self control to not go back there and hex the living daylights out of Cassiopeia D'Archer.

"Scarlet woman," agreed Louis with a serious face.

"Whore."

Louis and me glanced at each other and then at Taylor. "Nope," said Louis, after we had nonverbally agreed that he could explain. "Naith doesn't do prostitutes. Why pay for sex when you can get it thrown at you for free?"

I mentally cringed.

Actually, I think I physically cringed also, as Taylor looked at me sympathetically.

"But..."

"Calling Cass a scarlet woman and a slurry is more an insult to her whorish behaviour. Calling her an outright whore would be saying that she _is_ a whore, get it?"

Taylor looked confused, but shrugged it off. "Whatever. I still think she's a whore."

Internally agreeing with her, I forged on, making my way directly to Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. My dad always worked at the Hogsmeade branch when he knew we were coming down.

I pushed open the door, allowing Taylor and then Louis (who curtsied at my new friend. I'm thinking I should pull him aside later and give him the Talk. The 'thou shalt not shag thy cousin's new friends' talk. Maybe I should have told it to Naith as well, excluding the cousins bit...) in before me.

I pushed my way through the pulsing line of students all the way to the counter. The shop was brightly decorated, coloured with brilliant oranges – basically the Weasleys' signature hue.

I peered around the counter, past the stressed clerks, trying to find my dad. He clearly was not present, as the Hogsmeade branch was small and I would normally be able to spot him. Not only that, but he would be waiting at the counter for either me or Fred or one of our many cousins/family friends to show up. Since when had he not been here on a Hogwarts weekend? He was always giving us boxes of stuff to spread throughout the school.

"Hey!" I called over the counter. Some of the kids I had viciously shoved out of my way glared. "Oi, Meridocke!"

Moe Meridocke, the Hogsmeade manager, waved when he saw me.

"Where's dad?" I asked.

"Uh," Moe scratched his head. "Not in today, sweets. There was a firework emergency down in the London outlet."

I nodded. "Right. Well I need these," I handed him a twelve foot piece of parchment. "I'll pick them up later. Just put them on my tab."

Merlin, I love that line.

"Sure thing, sweets. Have a nice day." Moe smiled widely at me and then turned his attention to the disgruntled boy I had pushed and began serving him.

Winding my way back through the swarm, I found Louis and Taylor at the door waiting for me.

"All sorted?" my blonde cousin asked.

He had a strange smile on his face. I stared at him in mistrust. "Yes..." I responded slowly, my gaze switching to Taylor. She had the same silly grin on her pristinely tanned features. What the hell did I miss?

"What did you do?" I questioned suspiciously.

"Nothing!" They both replied in that cheery I-know-that-you-know-that-I'm-lying-to-you voice. Great. I used to be the master of that voice and now it was being used against me. Life as I know it was falling to bits.

Deciding not to question further for the sake of my own sanity (who wants details of your new best friend and your cousin hooking up?), I followed them without a word. We went to the Quidditch supply store next. Fred was currently on detention – hooray! One more session of detainment for the Weasley duo – and had asked me to get him a new beaters bat. We 'accidently' snapped his over the holidays. It may or may not have involved one of the particularly nasty gnomes in Nana Molly's garden. I hope to dear God that Hermione never finds out about that gnome or her hit squad from the Department of Preservation of Magical Creatures' Rights and Freedoms blah blah blah might come after Fred and me.

Insert fearful screaming here.

We went to three more shops (including LuluBeth's Magical Lingerie, to Louis' delight) before Taylor dragged us into the crowded Three Broomsticks, declaring that her feet were killing her. I was about to suggest in a very sarcastic manner that Louis should massage them when I heard a loud voice call over the counter.

"Roxanne, sweetie! How've you been?"

I raised my head, grinning at the aged barmaid as I walked over to her. "Perfectly sunny, Rosie, and yourself?"

Rosmerta smiled warmly. "Oh, you know, been busy. Three butterbeers, yes?"

"You know it!"

Rosmerta chatted with Louis, Taylor and I as she poured our drinks and then we headed over to find a table.

"So," began Taylor as we slid into the seats. I – very sneakily, of course – managed to wedge myself between her and my cousin. There will be no under the table touching of each other whilst I am here, thank you very much. "To the subject at hand."

"Aren't you posh?" said Louis, laughing. It wasn't even particularly funny. I could have slapped him right there.

"So posh. But, seriously now, what are we going to do about You Know Who?"

I snorted. "Nothing. He's already been dealt with twenty years ago. Oh! You mean Cassi?" Taylor nodded, not picking up on my sarcasm. "Hmm... it's actually plausible that she' be related to You Know Who, come to think of it. I bet Voldemort was a blonde boyfriend stealer in his day, too."

"Except that Naith is, er, _not_ your boyfriend," interjected Louis. He always had to go and be realistic, didn't he?

"Not technically..."

"Roxanne!"

Oh Shit.

I didn't even look up at the new occupant of our cozy booth. I could recognise that dominant, overpowering voice anywhere.

"Hello, Beryllia, your hair looks mighty shiny today."

Beryllia Longbottom snorted from her position across from Taylor. "You didn't even look up, Weasley, so don't bother with the compliments this early in the conversation, alright?"

I grinned into my butterbeer. "You know, I like you just for that reason. Your direct and in-ya-face attitude is so refreshing."

"Much more refreshing than the nasty Sixth year habit of backstabbing and sneaking off with someone's would-be boyfriend..."

"Shut the fuck up!"

Taylor laughed openly, Louis just smiled. How the fuck did Beryllia know about Naith. I turned my Glare on Taylor. I knew Louis wouldn't have told anyone. It had to have been her. Or Cassi... When I get my hands around her sneaking throat, I'm going to –

"Relax, Rox," said Beryllia. This time I looked up. Her silky fluorescent blonde hair actually did look shinier than usual. Her green eyes were bright with humour. Damned pretty people, blondes in particular. They kept rocking up and shattering my perfect universe. "I have a proposition for you."

Well isn't she nice and professional? I nodded at her to continue.

"You're completely in love with Naith Richards, right?"

I rolled my eyes because it was obvious she already knew the answer. Although it was starting to bother me just how many people were guessing this. First Taylor and now Beryllia. Great. Was I _that_ obvious?

"And you want to subtly sabotage their relationship so that he miraculously dumps her for you, and you skip off into the sunset, get married and have lots of babies?"

I held up an imaginary piece of paper. "Hmm, yes, that was number two on the agenda for today..."

Beryllia raised a perfectly shaped brow. _Damned perfect blonde people_. "Naith is only number two?"

"Number one was to bash the living shit of Cassi."

"Ahh... So anyway, back to my proposition. If I help you, you'll help me with my own sticky love life, right?"

Beryllia has a sticky love life? That is gross on _so_ many levels. And somehow, I sense that my brother might be involved.

"Depends. Let's assess the situation so that I can weigh my options. Firstly, does it involve Fred?"

This time it was Beryllia's turn to roll her eyes.

"Does it involve Augustina?"

She nodded.

"Is there anyone else?"

She shook her head.

"Okay, what's going on?"

"I kissed Fred for fun and Augustina got really offended and Fred thinks it's a joke but I really like him but I can't do anything because she'll hate me and... and..."

I held up a hand. "Slow down. Breathe. Now, let's speak at a speed that can be detected and understood by humans. So you fancy my brother – gross – but you don't want to do anything because he won't take you seriously and because your sister will have a cry."

"Exactly."

"Well, for starters, Fred doesn't take anyone seriously, so don't get all antsy about that. And screw Augustina. She should've made a move and if she didn't, he's open game."

"It's funny that –"

"I know the same goes for me, but just drop it, yeah?" I interrupted before Louis could say what he definitely was preparing to say.

Beryllia gazed at me. I stared back. She was pretty. Too pretty. How were girls like me meant to compete with this? Cassi's okay, because she's a bit of a bimbo, but Beryllia was way smart. Smart and Pretty – deadly combo. It's a shame that Augustina was only pretty (barring the cross-eyedness). So far, she had not particularly demonstrated any basic common sense. Beryllia, on the other hand, was like the pinnacle of what a woman was meant to be – strong, funny, beautiful, intelligent and wise. It was so unfair that some people didn't have to work for those attributes.

At least my boobs are better, I shallowly contented myself.

"But what do you want me to do?" I asked, even though I had a fair idea.

"Just keep Augustina off Fred for the time being. I'll think of something later. It may or may not involve some Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes action."

I nodded sagely. Until I saw the flaw in the plan. "But then she'll know that it was me."

"Or..."

"Fred..." I drifted off, the smile on my face was the only indication of the inspiration that had just struck me silly. "Beryllia Longbottom, you are a genius."

The blonde girl shrugged. "Not really."

Damn it, she's modest too. What _hasn't_ she got?

Oh. Right. My awesome boobs.

Just watch me and my smug, triumphant grin.

I suppose that it should have crossed my mind that this was wrong. Morally and ethically wrong. I shouldn't be plotting to reach my own ends at the misfortunes of others. But that thought did not enter my head. All I could see was Naith and me together. And I was pretty sure that all Beryllia could see was Fred. Gross as that was.

We left the Three Broomsticks with Beryllia promising to meet me later in the week. I had a satisfied smile on my face for the remainder of the Hogsmeade trip.

~xox~

"He was so sweet and caring and he absolutely swept me off my feet," exclaimed Cassiopeia D'Archer with a dreamy and semi-drunk look on her face. The girls were all back in the dormitory, it was nearly eleven o'clock and we were still gossiping about Hogsmeade.

"Oh Merlin, Cass, he sounds wonderful," replied Dom. No! Not my cousin! You can't be a would-be boyfriend stealer and a _cousin_ stealer at once, Cassi! That's just low!

Paulina stepped out of the bathroom. I liked her. She was really different. I had always found her to be quiet and calm no matter what, but she was always very nice. She dated my brother once – ew – but dumped him because he groped her. Serves him right, the slimy git. But that only allowed my respect for her to grow. I knew a lot of girls – probably nearly every girl in this dorm – would probably let some guy grab at them. Which was sad, really. They just didn't know how to say no. Girls in my year were, generally, to docile these days.

"Why, Cassiopeia, darling," Paulina said, her Spanish accent sliding on every syllable. "I'm so proud. Yet another Gryffindor to become a notch on the bedpost."

I know I just said she was quiet and calm. But when she did say something... well it was usually _hilarious_.

I snorted into my pillow, trying to cover the sound of my giggles.

Cassi glared at Paulina and then me. "You're all just jealous that he wants me."

That sobered me up.

Taylor chuckled. "No offence, Cass, but did he actually say that?"

"Of course he did!" she replied indignantly, sitting straighter in her bed. "He told me he's wanted since the first day back!"

I burst into a fit of uncontrollable giggles. We'd only been back at school for two weeks!

Taylor sighed, but I knew she was faking. "Cass, did you ever consider that he, er, might have just wanted your body, rather than, you know, _you_."

Oh she was _good_. I was reminded of how intelligent I was at allowing her to group in with me in my plot to reduce Cassi to a blubbering pile of meaningless blonde...ness.

Cassi gaped. Paulina giggled. I snorted. Taylor frowned mockingly. Dom merely looked thoughtful.

"He's not like that! Naithaniel is not like that!"

"Well," said Paulina calmly. "The only person who can really give us an honest assessment of his previous fidelity is Roxanne."

"I haven't shagged him!" I spluttered, trying to block the tasty images from my mind.

_I wish I had. _

Paulina shook her head. "Not what I meant. You're his mate, yeah? You probably know everything about him."

_Sometimes too much_.

I noticed Taylor motioning for my attention. The graphic and mildly disturbing hand gestures she was making seemed to be urging me to give intimate detail into his past relationships. Gross.

And this would sully him in the eyes of Cass, not to mention all my dorm mates. Was this wrong, to talk him down to be a despicable womaniser (even though he was)? Would he be terrible upset?

"Well, I sort of keep away from that side of things... but..."

"Yes?" urged Taylor, one brow cocked.

"Hemighthavecheatedonallofhisgirlfriendssofarandonlybeinterestedinsexbutthat'snotmyproblemisit?"

"Um, sorry?"

I groaned. "He's a boy. Cass, when he says 'I want you', what he means is 'I want your uterus. Temporarily.'"

Dom wrinkled her nose. "Ew."

Paulina sniggered and Taylor full out laughed.

I think I was the only who actually felt bad when Cass disappeared into the bathroom for a good ten minutes.

Damn it. Why did I pick now to feel guilty?

~xox~

[two weeks later]

"Maxxie!" I sang when I spotted him ahead of me, just rounding the Charms corridor. He turned and visible cringed when he saw me skipping – yes, skipping – towards him, a silly grin plastered on my face. "Oh, Maxxie!"

"Fucking Weasley bitch," he muttered as he waited for me. "What the bloody fuck do you want now?"

"Have you seen Fred?"

"What the bloody hell do you want him for? Don't you have bloody pranks to pull, Slytherins to torture, teachers to fuck with?"

I smiled angelically at him. "Darling, Maxxie, I simply need to tell him something. You can keep a secret right?" I stuck my finger in my mouth pulled my cheek and made a popping sound and then pointed at myself. Any dirty-minded seventeen year old would know that I was talking about _cherries_ (aka virginity). And Maxxie was far from clean-minded. His eyes widened. "Kidding!" I said, laughing at his horrified expression.

He swore. "That fucking well wasn't even funny, Roxie!"

I grinned. "You know it was. But seriously. Where's Fred?"

Maximus gave me a libidinous grin, one that I always tried to avoid. "Well, if you go to the broom cupboard on the fifth floor, you might find him with his tongue shoved down a certain blonde Ravenclaw's throat and his hand up said Head Girl's skirt. There's a clue. Now leave me the fuck alone."

Wow. Beryllia acted fast. We were only in Hogsmeade three days ago... Did that mean I was meant to be doing the same?

I glanced around looking for someone willing to, as Max put it, shove their tongue down my throat and hand up my skirt. Unfortunately the corridor was strangely empty except for me and my brother's best friend and Lancaster was just...

I bolted, vaguely hearing him swearing to himself as I quickly walked away.

"Hey, Roxanne!" I heard someone call. I whirled back to see Josephine Stephens hurrying towards me. I gave the Ravenclaw prefect a rushed smile.

"Oh, hi, Josie, how are ya?"

She fell into step with me, clutching her pile of textbooks to her chest. "Wonderful, thank you. And yourself?"

"Yeah, alright. Swinging it as usual," I liked Josie. She was James' steady girlfriend. They'd been together since second year, can you believe it? I swear if they don't get married... something karma-ish would happen. Perhaps Voldemort would come back reincarnated as a crocodile or something...

Josie and Jamsie. C'mon, as if that isn't the cutest couple ever?

Josie laughed nervously. "Listen, some of the Slytherins were asking weird questions about you yesterday. I just thought you should know in case they're plotting anything."

I turned a puzzled stare on her. Of course they were plotting something, they always were. I routinely made a fool of them.

"What sort of questions?"

"They were asking about you and Naith Richards. I wasn't quite sure what they wanted so I just said I didn't know," babbled Josie. She looked quite out of sorts. She probably wasn't used to being caught up in a Weasley Mess (which we had dubbed them) as James always kept her pretty clear of trouble.

I rolled my eyes. "Probably trying to start a stupid rumour again. Did you tell them I didn't go back in time and booby trap that muggle evil guy – what's his name? – Uhdolph Hotler's office?" she nodded. "Did you tell them I wasn't pregnant?" she nodded. "Did you tell them that I am currently not engaged to Minister Shacklebolt?" she nodded. "Did you tell them –"

"Roxanne, they weren't asking the usual questions," she interrupted. She better hurry this up. I was nearly at Ancient Runes.

"Well, what did they ask then?"

"They asked why you put up with a backstabbing blond boyfriend stealer and they told me to tell you to come find them when you're ready to sort it out."

I screeched to a skidding halt. No bloody way. The Slytherins knew? The _Slytherins_ knew?

"Uh, okay. Who was it?"

Josie frowned. "Jack Burns, Dascha Prince and Juliet Wilkinson. You know, the really cute guy and those two girls that follow him around like separate shadows?"

I knew them. They had to be – outside of Beryllia and Naith (and probably, although I for obvious reasons disagree, Louis) – the prettiest people in the school.

Well that's interesting.

"Thanks for telling me, Josie," I said warmly as she turned around. She said no worries and hurried off to class. I followed her example and quickly trudged towards the Ancient Runes corridor.

"Hey, Roxanne!"

I groaned in frustration. I was getting tired of 'Hey, Roxanne!' Seriously, was it the chorus of my life or something?

I turned and Beryllia strode up to me on long statuesque legs.

_Damned pretty blonde people._

"Fred asked me out!" she exclaimed in excitement.

Oh Merlin, make all the new developments in my life go away! I can't retain this many facts at once! I'm not an informational sponge!

"So, I don't think I'll need your help any more, you know, with deal, so..."

"I get it," I replied stiffly. "No worries. I _just_ want to go to Ancient Runes. Now."

So I did.

Which was really a poor decision in hindsight, seeing as the first thing I saw when I stepped into the room was Naith snogging the living daylights out of Cassi.

I can't catch a break!

I sighed as I took a seat.

I had best be having a conversation with those pesky Slytherins, then...

**AN: Heyyy! Look! an update! I have spent the weekend coughing up my lungs and sniffling with a violent bout of Swine Flu (I'm kidding about that last bit) and I feel absolutely disgusting right now. And I bet I look worse. **

**Anyway, in spite of my lethal contraction of the worse case of flu I have ever had, I updated! So tell me what you think! Poor Roxanne, it seems like everyone knows except Naith... Just how long can that last? And what happens when Cass (the bitch) realises that Rox is out to win the love of her life? What exactly is Beryllia doing? And Augustina? And Taylor has some ulterior motives in helping her... just what did she do last year to make her hate Cassi with a passion to rival Roxanne's? Oh, and now the Slytherins are getting on board. Oh, Roxanne... what have you gotten yourself into.**

**My head actually aches from the thought of this twisted plot. You should see my little notebook - it's messy pages bear the brunt of my frantic planning. It's not pretty, I assure you.**

**Whoa, I love playing God with my fanfictional universe. It's so elating. **

**Please review! C'mon I'm sick, you have to... *Shameless guilt-tripping***

**xxx!**


	4. Puddlemere United and Shady Slytherins

**Adore You**

**4. Puddlemere United and Shady Slytherins**

Professor McGonagall was nearly finished handing out notices by the time I had pulled myself out of bed the next day and made my way solo to the Great Hall. Technically, classes were starting in five minutes, but such a trivial thing as punctuality was not registered on my list of stuff to pay attention to.

Louis, Dominique, Freddie and some other kid I didn't know too well were the only ones still sitting at the Gryffindor table. Ahh the perks of being at the end of the alphabet...

"Ah, Miss Weasley. Nice of you to show up," said our Headmistress.

"I was primping, professor," I said sincerely, flicking my wand discretely at her. "You can't rush perfection."

Professor McGonagall rolled her eyes. "I have... let's see here... this letter for you, Miss Weasley. Congratulations. No doubt you'll understand my appreciation when you read it _later_. I would like you to come and see me in my office this evening, at six o'clock, to discuss the position. Roxanne, I am very proud of you. Off to class now."

"Uh, sure, Professor," I said, shooting her a winning smile, once more non-verbally casting a spell on my headmistress. "Have a magical morning!" I hadn't understood a word of what she had just said, and didn't particularly care either. McGonagall being proud of _me_, Roxie Weasley – hah! As if!

"Weasley, if you charm my shoe into a mouse one more time, I assure you I will place you straight back on that train."

I pouted. "Can I just have fifty detentions instead?"

McGonagall shot me The Look. The one that meant 'get the hell out before you get your arse whooped big time'. I may not heed her words, but when The Look comes into play, I'm outta there before you can say 'Naith Richards has a nice bum'.

And you can say that a lot. No, seriously, it's, like, the chorus of my _life_.

I grabbed my letter from the table and tore off down the hall to History of Magic. Believe it or not, it was my favourite class. I ace it. No, really, I do. Best bludge ever!

Aunt Hermione says that I have a selective memory; she reckons I can recall the dates easily because I enjoy the class. Silly Hermione, however, thinks I like Binns' class because it's _fun_, but I assure you it's not. I enjoy it because it is Planning Time. It's the easiest lesson to get away with mucking up in.

I shoved the letter in my bag, intending to read it later (how important could a stupid piece of parchment be?) and took a seat next to James. He turned to me, grinning.

"Alright," he whispered. "Naith and I have come up with a foolproof new way to give McGonagall a hernia. Care to take a squiz?" He shoved his Planning Ideas in my face.

_Squiz._ That's such a funny word...

I flicked my eyes down the page of careful planning, disappointment clouding my features. I tutted and shook my head. "James Sirius Potter," I said, not really bothering to keep my voice low (Binns loves me). "This is the most abysmal idea since... well, since the Chudley Cannons decided to transfer Edwin Baloroote to the Magpies. Seriously, Potter, anything between the ears up there? Do you remember, we pulled this prank in third year!"

James blinked, his green-hazel eyes clouding with concentration.

I sighed. "Don't you recall? We snuck into Slughorn's office that night, when he was completely drunk from Halloween, and forced him into the walrus costume. That has to be poking your memory – it was bloody hilarious! It took six of us to get him into it."

A shot of recognition passed over his face. "Oh, damn," he muttered, realising that I was right. He turned to Naith, who was sitting on his other side, and punched him in the arm. "Idiot," I heard James hiss. "We've already done this one!"

I leaned back in my chair. "Okay, look," I said, pinching my cousin to get his attention. "How about we... ooh, I know!"

"What?" asked James, leaning in. I could see Naith listening as well. "Go on, Rox."

I grinned wickedly, imagining the consequences of my dastardly prank. Oh, I cannot wait to tell Dad about this one...

"How about we switch all the teachers' knickers about. Like, Flitwick has some of McGonagall's, and Neville has some of Professor Gertrude's, you know?"

James' face lit up at the thought of Minerva McGonagall running all over Hogwarts in a desperate search for her underpants. It was definitely a dream-worthy mental image.

"And we could cast anti-accio charms on them, so the teachers can't just summon their pants when they realise that they're missing," contributed Naith.

I nodded at him," Yeah, and we could put displacement spells on them too, so that they can't just wave their wands and locate them. Then they'll have to go and ask around. Oh Merlin, maybe they'll make, like, a drop box where they can all collect their knickers!" I burst into a fit of violent laughter.

Naith grinned at me. "Excellent, so when are we doing this? Tonight?"

I nodded excitedly at him, completely ignoring James, who was shaking his head.

"Nah, tomorrow night," Cousin Potter said. "We've got to hold Quidditch tryouts, remember?"

"Oh, damn," I responded, biting my lip. We had held trials to fill the two empty Chaser spots in the team. Lily Potter had been immediately selected, as I had predicted she would. However, the other boy who was chosen, Xavier Midougal, just broke his arm in his first training. How's that for luck? So, James had to hold another tryout, set for this afternoon.

Naith shrugged. "Tomorrow then," he amended. "We'll have more time to plan, then. Alright, jobs," he began, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. "James and I will suss out where which teachers keep their knickers. I'll set Louis to work out which teachers will swap knickers with whom. And, Roxie, you're our best Charms and Transfiguration genius – you figure out which spells we'll use."

I rolled my eyes. Typical. I always get assigned the hard work. I think I shall actually have to sneak into the library for this one – we don't cover displacement spells until the end of the NEWT course.

And I was banned from the library... damn. I might even have to bribe Rose (who pretty much lives in the library) to help me get in there...

We dropped the conversation once we realised that Cass, who was sitting right behind me, was within earshot. The girl had been taking her Prefect duties pretty seriously, to our dismay, and had even deducted points off me for _accidentally_ enlarging a Slytherin second year's nose. Completely unintentional, I assured her. But, for some _strange_ reason, Cassi did not believe me and sent me to Professor McGonagall.

Bitch.

I leaned back into the chair, realising that I still had an hour of History to sit through. Something was nagging at my mind (a sensation that I detested) and I pondered as to what it was.

I sat forward with a jolt and reached into my bag. I pulled out the letter that my Head of House and Headmistress had given me. I hadn't actually cared what was in it, but her words, '_Roxanne, I am very proud of you_,' kept poking my brain.

Why in the name of Agrippa's mono-brow would Minerva McGonagall be proud of _me_? I was a thorn in her side, a nail in her butt and an ulcer in her stomach lining and had been since the day I got here.

James and Naith did not notice me tear the envelope open, as both were busy discussing their girlfriends. Yuck (actually, Josie was nice. Only Cassi was yuck).

I pulled out the sheet of parchment, noticing that it was the expensive type; really white and thin.

_Dear Miss R. Weasley,_

_We are very pleased to inform you that you have been awarded a position as a Beater on the Puddlemere United Reserve Quidditch Team. It is a highly sought after position, and many of our reserve players have gone on to play professional Quidditch._

_If you wish to be a part of this prestigious team, please note that it is a very serious commitment. We understand that you are still in school, and respect that your studies come first. The Puddlemere United Quidditch Facility has study rooms for when you are not training and there is a tutor on hand for when school-aged players require homework assistance._

_You will, of course, be paid for your games. If you accept the position, we will meet with you to discuss all the details. It is strongly advised that a parent or guardian attends the meeting also._

_There are trainings three nights a week, and a game every second weekend. Your school shall organise a Portkey for you to attend these training sessions and games, and you will also be expected to continue playing for your school team. On top of that, if our A-league team necessitates players or fill-ins, you may be required to play at this level._

_If you have any enquiries, or would like a tour of our facilities, please do not hesitate to contact me. Your headmistress will make a date for you to Floo to our administration centre in which you will meet with either myself or one of the other managers._

_Sincerely, _

_Philbert Deverill_

_Manager of the Puddlemere United Reserve Team_

Mother of Merlin.

Oh my God.

Holy fucking shit.

I have been... oh my God.

Wow.

Holy crap.

Puddlemere United Reserves!

Bleeding Dumbledore, I'm going pro!

"Holy shit," I breathed, unable to contain my excitement mentally any longer. "Wow..."

James turned to me. "What's that, Rox? You look like you've just seen Auntie Audrey fall on her arse, what's up?"

I swallowed and, still unable to from a coherent sentence, shoved the letter in my cousin's face.

James' eyes widened as his mouth moved, silently reading the letter. Naith was reading it over his shoulder, a wide grin plastered on his goddamn gorgeous face.

"Holy fucking shit!" whispered James.

"That's what I said!"

"Mother of Merlin," gasped Naith when he had finished.

"I said that, too!"

James was clutching his hair and grinning madly. He reached over and pulled me into a tight bear-hug (the fact that we were in class had been quickly forgotten), congratulating me.

"My cousin's been accepted into the Puddlemere Reserves," James kept muttering to himself.

"I didn't know you guys had scouts at your games?" asked Naith, who did not give a damn about Quidditch but was happy all the same.

"Neither did we," said James, his eyes still bright with excitement. "This is amazing, Roxie," he said seriously, turning to me. "This is an awesome opportunity and you would be stupid not to take it."

"Of course I'm going to take it, you doorbell," I scoffed, my glee apparent in every movement. "I'm going to go owl Mum and Dad. Professor Binns?" I asked, standing up to capture the boring dead guy's attention.

"Yes, Miss Weston?"

I didn't bother to correct him. "I need to pee."

The ghost blinked and the class laughed at my bluntness. "Off you go, Miss Warley. Be sure to go before class next time."

I rolled my eyes at the man's inability to recall my surname, grabbed my bag and walked out.

Speeding up, I nearly ran to the Owlery. I called down Fred's owl, Giggles (stupid name, I know), and attached a letter to Mum and Dad. After some consideration, I also pulled out my wand and duplicated the letter I had received from Puddlemere and tied that to Giggles' leg as well.

_They are going to be so proud_, I thought, a ginormous grin taking space on my face once more.

I practically shoved Giggles out of the window in my haste to get her home, before turning and running back down the crap-covered owlery stairs. Just as I was passing the library on my way to Gryffindor Tower (I couldn't be stuffed to go back to History of Magic) I nearly toppled over a sobbing, red-haired person sitting on the ground.

I swung around, after narrowly catching myself, and realised that the crying kid was my cousin, Rose Weasley. I kneeled down beside her, my glee over the Puddlemere spot fading when I saw that she was really upset.

Rose was fourteen and exactly like her mum in every way, except that her wildly bushy hair was bright red. I touched her shoulder, wishing that one of my other relatives had found her. I was never good with crying girls.

"Rose?" I asked tentatively. Rose and I, despite sharing initials, were not particularly close. Well, not as close as she and Al, or James, Louis and I. But we still had a familial bond, and I hoped that it was enough so that my stubborn cousin would not lash out at me. "Rosie, are you alright?"

Sniffing, she looked up. Her blood-shot, milk chocolate eyes met my own obsidian ones. "Roxanne?"

"That's my name, honey," I reply, smiling a little. "Come on, let's go somewhere quiet."

Look! I'm being nice and friendly... And _affectionate_.

Rose sniffled again and stood up, wiping her nose. I led her through the castle, and pushed her into the first empty classroom I could find. I sat her down on one of the desks and plonked myself across from her.

"So, cousin, what's up?"

Rose shook her head. "Doesn't matter..."

I frowned. Come on, kid, just pour your heart out to me and get it over with. I have a Puddlemere Reserves Quidditch Team to write to (!!!).

"I'm sure it does, otherwise the great Rose Weasley would not be crying. So, out with it then."

Rose grimaced. "Fine. I'll tell you."

I nodded, pleased with my persuasive skills.

"On one condition."

I shrugged, clearly not thinking. "Name it."

"You have to humiliate _Malfoy_ in front of everyone." She said her boyfriend's name as if it were a swear word. Or a killing curse.

I blinked at her viciousness. Humiliate a Slytherin? Gosh, that would be so _unusual_ for me. "Alright. Now, tell me."

"He d-dumped me."

I glared at my dirty, scuffed shoe, the Weasley Fury rising up and demanding blood. "Why?"

Rose began picking at her fingernails. "Well, I got upset when his friend, Jackson Chang, called me a half-blood and Scorpius didn't defend me. So we got into this massive fight. I didn't think it was bad at first, I mean, we always fight. But then he called me a loser and a whiny know-it-all, and I called him a git and a pure blooded prick, and –"

"Go Weasley!" I took the opportunity to interrupt.

The barest of smiles crept across Rosie's tear-smudged face before she continued, "And then we started yelling while we were walking. I didn't realise that we had gone into the Study Hall, where all the Ravenclaws and Slytherins were, and he told me it was over in a really loud voice."

I gasped at the appropriate time. "That little bastard!"

She nodded miserably. "And of course, everybody heard."

I shook my head. "I'm sure they didn't hear – that Study Hall is fairly enormous," I attempted to comfort her.

Rose looked glum. "No, they definitely did. They all stood up cheered."

I blinked.

They cheered? They _cheered_ when a Weasley got dumped? Who _does_ that? What kind of people are these? I bet they all grow up to be Voldemort or something... Who, just _who_, cheers when a fourteen year old girl gets dumped? _Seriously_? I know that Hogwarts is home to some truly insensitive people (like me), but I didn't think that anyone would be cruel enough to do _that_!

I believe it's time I plant a couple of dungbombs in the Study Hall next time Slytherin and Ravenclaw are in there... ooh! I know! I could release a herd of Nifflers in there! Yes!

Taking a deep breath, I asked, "And what did Scorpius do?"

"He bowed and let his friends congratulate him on a job well done."

Why, that little Spawn of Satan!

I clenched my fist. "Don't worry, Rosie, we'll get him."

The girl looked up. "Really?"

I nodded. "Sure. That little turd just unleashed the combined rage of the Weasleys. He is going to get his arse handed to him on a silver platter with lovely butt-whooping dressing and a side of revenge... and for desert he can have ultimate humiliation and perhaps some –"

"You're rambling, Roxie..."

My mouth snapped shut. "Right. Well, never mind, cousin. Scorpius Malfoy is going to receive some richly decorated revenge, let's just leave it at that."

Rose smiled vindictively. My anti-violence and anti-pranking cousin was finally seeing the light.

Seeing that she was lost in visions of her boyfriend's – sorry, _ex_-boyfriend's blood, I decided to leave her to it. It was almost time for lunch anyway. Wow, this morning was going fast...

"Okeydokey," I said, breaking through Rose's iron-like concentration. "I'm off then. Fear not, Malfoy will be punished at lunch time."

Rosie smiled at me and slid off the desk. She pulled me into a close hug. "Thanks, Roxie. I can't wait to see his face..."

I chuckled. "No worries, cousin. Go eat chocolate – Taylor says it's better than boys."

She smiled weakly and left the room.

My smile over my Quidditch acceptance returned as soon as she was gone. I was going to be on the Puddlemere Reserve Team! I had to be one of the youngest people ever to get onto that team!

In a decidedly better mood, I ventured out and off to the Great Hall. It was practically lunch time, by now. And it never hurt to be early to the Gryffindor table – more food selections, you see.

So it was, as I was sitting there by myself, a beautiful blessing when Naith sat down beside me. And hugged me.

Hugged me.

_Naith Richards hugged me, everyone!_

"I didn't get a chance to congratulate you earlier," he explained, reaching for the sandwich platter. The rest of the school quickly began to file into the Great Hall, spreading themselves out around the food.

"Thanks, Naith," I responded. Suddenly, I remembered the promise I had made to a very distraught cousin of mine and looked up. The Slytherin table was nearly full and I could see Scorpius Malfoy's blond head bobbing as he ate. I caught Rose's eye and winked.

I waited a few more minutes for the Great Hall to fill up. Glancing up at the staff table, I checked which teacher was on duty. They usually elected one for each day, whilst the rest of the faculty dined in the staffroom. To my intense delight, it was tiny Professor Flitwick. I could practically get away with murder if I ran fast enough.

I nudged Naith. "Oi, I have to do something. If the snakes begin cursing me, I want cover fire, alright?"

He stared at me a moment, his beautiful blue eyes filled with confusion, before nodding. I took a deep breath, mentally preparing myself and clambered up to stand on the Gryffindor table.

"Hey, Malfoy!" I called out loudly. Every head in the Great Hall looked up at me. Oh, crap – I never worked out what to say! Oh, damn it! I need to think about these things before I do them! Think, Roxanne, be spontaneous! "Your mum's a slut!" I shouted, as it was the first thing that came to my head.

Malfoy went bright red and the students began to laugh. Scorpius stood, reaching into his robes, no doubt to hex me. I jumped off the table and bolted for the door, still yelling and repeating, "Malfoy's mum is a slag!" and, "Scorpius Malfoy has genital herpes!" at the top of my lungs. Almost hoping that I was being followed, I skidded down the corridor and took a breather near the oak front doors.

_Not one of my better stunts_, I conceded, _but still mildly amusing_. I savoured the adrenaline rush for a few moments before heading outside. Maybe I could go and brag to Hagrid about Puddlemere!

It was then that I was hit by a wicked trip jinx whilst I was hopping down the stairs. In a highly undignified manner, I flew forward, landing on my face in the dirt below.

I heard laughter from behind me. I rolled over, spitting out soil, and glaring up at the three Slytherins standing on the top step. To my surprise, it wasn't Malfoy or any of his fourth year cronies, but rather some students in my own year.

The ones that had been speaking to Josie Stephens about me.

I tried to recall their names, but before I could talk my way out of a soon-to-be nasty situation, the boy stepped down and held out a hand.

It was obviously intended to help me to my feet. But I was a born and bred Gryffindor – I don't _do_ nice Slytherins.

I hauled myself to my feet, eyeing the boy and the two girls warily. It did not take me long to notice that he was very good-looking.

He shrugged at my refusal to accept his assistance and stepped back. The two girls came down the steps to stand just behind him. "That's Dascha and Juliet," he said, pointing at each of the girls. "And I'm Jack Burns," he introduced himself. "I'd offer you my hand, but I have a feeling you'll spit on it."

I grinned. "Don't tempt me."

One of the girls chuckled. I glanced up at her, taking in her firey red hair. I wondered if she was a Weasley, but shunned the thought when I remembered she was in Slytherin. Juliet, I think he called her... I shall have to consult the family tree, just in case.

"Well, I'm Roxanne Weasley," I said.

"We know," the two girls chorused.

Creeeepy.

Jack Burns laughed. "Don't mind them, they do that a lot," he explained.

"Sure," I brushed it off. "So, what do you want? I don't have time to play nice with Snakes like yourselves..."

"Well, obviously we're not looking to spend time in your _delightful_ company –" I snort – "but we might have heard about a little trouble that you've been having with Naithaniel Richards and Cassiopeia D'Archer."

Oh, wonderful.

"That's not an explanation," I point out. "I still have no idea what you want."

Jack grinned, his blonde hair spilling into his eyes. Wow, he has gorgeous hair, I couldn't help but notice. It was... wow... I mentally slapped myself at the thought.

Why does looking at him feel like I am cheating on Naith?

"Enough staring, Weasley," he said, laughing. "I have an offer."

Oh, I'm enjoying these offers concerning my love life, they're really working for me at the moment. First Taylor, then Beryllia and now Jack Burns.

"As if I'd make a deal with scum like you!"

Jack rolled his eyes. "Now, now, Weasley. Play nice. You like Richards, right?"

It was my turn to roll my eyes. He grinned, pleased that I was playing along. "And you want him to like you, yeah?"

"Good work, Sherlocke."

He frowned, puzzled. "What's a Sherlocke?"

I shook my head, "Never mind. Continue with your offer."

Jack stepped backwards and took a seat on the bottom step. The two girls – his shadows – copied his example, sitting just above him. I sighed and took the place he was gesturing to on his left.

"I'll help you make him jealous."

I grimaced. "Then I'd have to pretend I like _you_."

He chuckled. "It's not that hard. I'm a pretty decent person, for a Slytherin."

I was seriously considering his offer. Damn, I hate Slytherins. They can be so darned convincing when they wanted.

"It's not a big deal. Dash says he likes you and all you have to do is give him a reason to want you."

"Other than my spiffing personality."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Speaking from a guy perspective here, not every boy is interested in personality. Naith Richards especially. Haven't you noticed he's currently dating D'Archer? That bird wouldn't recognise a personality if it had its tongue down her throat and its hands up her shirt."

I was beginning to like this guy more and more.

"And what do you get out of it, Jack Burns?" I asked. Now here was the big one. I draw the line at signing over my first born child. Actually, I draw the line at signing over pretty much anything.

"You'll owe me a favour," he said, as if it was the simplest thing in the world. "It's always nice having a Weasley in your debt."

"Debt to do what?" I asked thoughtfully. Why is this conversation repeating itself? I swear I had the exact same discussion with Beryllia Longbottom in Hogsmeade the other day...

He smiled widely. "I'll think of something."

We sat in silence for a few moments, while I pondered as to what Slytherinesque motives he might have.

"Can I tell you tomorrow?" I asked, glancing at my watch. Lunch had finished five minutes ago.

"Sure," said Jack. "Breakfast?"

I nodded, standing up and brushing some dirt from the bottom of my bag. "I'll come and find you."

Jack stood up as I stepped past him and the two shadows. "Oh, and Weasley?"

I turned when I was just inside the enormous doors. "Yeah?"

He smiled. "Don't worry about that Malfoy kid, we'll take care of him."

I grinned. "Thanks."

I started running to Potions, even though Slughorn would forgive any tardiness (I was a Weasley, and social climbers love Weasleys), with a million thoughts running through my head. At the top of the list was Puddlemere, Jack Burns, Naith Richards and figuring out how in the world I was going to break the news – that I had been picked and he hadn't – to Fred.

And I still had to meet with McGonagall tonight.

Oh bullocks.

**AN: Aaaand here it is! I know it's been a while, guys, but I'm nearly on school holidays. And generally, more time = more updates. Or something. **

**So, what did you think of Jack, eh? So Roxanne has two people now who are trying to help her and she doesn't quite know their intentions. Does Taylor have a reason for helping her out and what could Jack possibly ask for in return, should she accept his offer? Is it the end of Rose and Scorpius? What of the knicker-switching prank? And Roxie got asked to play Quidditch for Puddlemere! Isn't that exciting? Unless McGonagall hazards a chance at revenge for all the years of shameless pranking... And what will Fred's reaction be, when his sister is picked to go pro and he isn't? Oh, I have to tell you guys, I am having so much fun writing this.**

**Reviewer question_: Is there too much dialogue? Or not enough of Roxanne's thoughts?_**

**Lots of love!! 3**

**(I'll be posting some character images for this story on my profile soon, so keep a look out!)**

**xx!**


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